Caution to the Wind
by Mariko Azrael
Summary: 'Scott isn't impulsive. It just isn't in his nature.' Scott/Kurt, very slashy, psuedo-introspective


Disclaimer- I don't own X-men Evolution. Never have, never will.  
Notes- Behold, my first attempt at smutty fiction! Hopefully, there's enough character in it to keep it from being PWP, not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you. Anyways, thanks to snarkyslytherin for the plot bunny, and to Mercuria for helping my keep Kurt in character. And, as always, feedback is appreciated. 

Scott isn't impulsive. It just isn't in his nature. Everything he says or does has a purpose, even if he's the only one who knows what it is. 

So as he kissed my face, and my neck, and slipped his hand up my shirt, I was trying like mad to figure out what would drive him to do something so unexpected, to act on instinct, instead of coming up with one of those plans he seemed so fond of. 

I was dazed by his actions, but I still wrapped my arms around his neck, and tilted my head so he would have more room to work. I am a teenage boy, hormones and all. But even as I pressed my lips against his jawline, I was looking for the reason why this was happening in the first place. 

There was no way he could be in love with me. I'm a freak. It might've been because he was overwhelmed by lust, and no longer cared about who he was fucking, just as long he was fucking. But considering he had Jean throwing herself at him every chance she got, I figured it wasn't that--- 

All thought was quickly banished from my mind as his thumb found my nipple. I meant to say something, but all that came out was a rather pathetic sounding whimper as I leaned into his hand. 

I strained to catch a glimpse of his face, hoping that maybe I could figure out what he was thinking. He... looked the same as he always did. Dark glasses, brow furrowed, his mouth pulled back in a thoughtful frown. If he wasn't straddling my hips, I would've sworn he was doing his math homework. 

Without warning, he removed his hand from my shirt, and began unbuttoning it. My breathing was suddenly very shallow as I tried to focus. Maybe... maybe he was doing this strictly as a favor, offering me some comfort. No, that wasn't it. Scott knew how much it hurt me sometimes to look different, but he was far too high-minded to do anything like that. 

I was dimly aware of the fact that Scott was now struggling to get my jeans unzipped. If it wasn't lust, and it wasn't pity, then it had to be... 

"No..." I whispered without realizing I had. 

Although Scott certainly did. He scrambled off of me and to the foot of the bed, looking like he had just woken up from a nightmare. "God, Kurt, I'm sorry. I am so sorry..." All I could see of him was his back. 

I sat up and scooted over to his side of the bed. Then, very cautiously, I intertwined my fingers with his. It wasn't easy, since he has five fingers on his hand and I only have three, but we managed. He squeezed my palm, but he still wouldn't look at me. It was pretty obvious that I wasn't going to get anywhere unless I tried something different. "Scott," I asked carefully, "are you in love with me?" 

Sure enough, he did turn around. He certainly didn't look like he was doing math homework now. He looked scared, guilty, lustful, disappointed... it was a little creepy. "Yes." he whispered hoarsly. He bowed his head in shame as he slipped his hand out of my grasp. "I've been for a while now," he said as if he did something horribly wrong. "I meant to tell you, I swear I did... but nothing seemed like it would work, so---" 

"You jumped me?" 

"Exactly." He turned away again. "I won't ask you to forgive me." He was trying so hard to sound like he was in control it was almost funny. 

I sat there, staring at his back like an idiot, as I worked out all the information out in my head... which, as my teammates are always so eager to remind me, isn't my strong point. Okay, Scott was in love with me. I wasn't sure if I was in love with him, but I was more then willing to find out. Nothing left to do now but try what he had. 

"Good," I murmured as I took his face in my hands. "'Cause you haven't done anything wrong." I kissed him as gently as I could, hoping he wasn't too lost in his guilt to refuse. 

He stiffened, relaxed, let his tongue explore my mouth for a few moments... then he pulled away, looking at me with just the faintest glimmer of hope. "Then you don't mind if I...?" 

"God, how dense are you? Of course not." 

He threw me back onto the bed, pinning down my wrists. His mouth was very close to my throat. "How about this?" 

"Nope." I was trying to sound flippant, but that attempt quickly melted away as he began making his way back down to my chest. Sighing contentedly, I let go of any remaining questions I had left. 


End file.
